


Just Believe

by carolej126



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5488514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolej126/pseuds/carolej126
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally published in Magnificent Holidays 8 (NeonRainbow Press, 2010)</p><p>Old West</p><p>Written by the Mod Squad, otherwise known as Carole, Sue & Teri.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Believe

The morning air was crisp and still, the sky a cloudless blue and the winter sun casting long shadows as it slowly rose above the buildings.

From his seat outside the jail, Chris watched as the townsfolk, bundled in their winter coats and mufflers, busied themselves with last-minute preparations for the Christmas festivities.

Colourful garlands hung in some of the windows, and a large fir tree, decorated with strings of popcorn and ribbon bows by the town's children, stood in a barrel in front of the church.

Raising his cup to his lips, Chris blew gently across the surface of the hot black liquid before taking a sip and grimacing slightly at the bitter taste.

“Mornin’, Stud.”

“Buck,” Chris acknowledged, with a nod of his head, his eyes not straying from the street.

Slipping into the empty chair at Chris’ side, Buck lifted his long legs to rest his heels on the hitch rail and hunkered down, his own coffee cup cradled in his hands in an attempt to warm them. 

"Nice mornin'," the ladies' man ventured.

"Yep."

"Not lookin' much like sn..."

“Ya comfortable there, Bucklin?” 

The softly rasped question drew a wry smile from Chris as Buck startled, the coffee slopping over the rim of his cup.

"Damn it, Vin! Make some noise, can't ya?"

Shaking the hot coffee from his hand, Buck made no move to give up the chair as Vin leaned a hip against the hitch rail and followed Chris’ gaze out onto the street.

"Ez got a telegram from Maude."

"She's not comin'?" Chris guessed, tipping his head to look at the tracker.

"Nope," Vin shook his head, "not rightly sure if he's disappointed or relieved."

"It's probably for the best, with all that snow we’re expectin’," Buck baited, "there's no tellin' how long she'd've had to stay."

"That's maybe why Ez'd be relieved," Vin agreed, not rising to the bait, and turned at the sound of familiar footsteps on the boardwalk.

"Hey, fellas," JD greeted, his hands shoved into his pockets in search of warmth, "Inez sent me to see if you're about ready for breakfast."

"Ask her to set some aside for me," Vin requested, pushing away from the hitch rail. "Think I'll take my patrol 'fore the weather closes in."

Buck threw Chris a questioning look, and received a shrug in return. 

"I wouldn't bet against him."

"He already has," JD grinned. 

"Hey!" Buck exclaimed, taking off his hat and swiping at JD with it.

"What?" JD demanded, scooting away, "You told Ezra there weren't a snowball's chance in hell of us wakin' up to a white Christmas."

Chris hid a grin behind his coffee cup as he watched his old friend bluster under Vin's unwavering gaze.

"Now, I didn't actually say..."

"Hope ya didn't bet more'n ya can afford,” the Texan rasped, and with a tip of his hat he stepped onto the street.

“Snow’s comin’, Buck,” the words drifted back over Vin’s shoulder as he headed for the livery.

*******

Ezra exited the church and stepped into the cool night air. The warmth pouring through the doorway beckoning him to return as the melodious sound of voices raised in praise drifted out on the breeze. He pulled the door closed sufficiently breaking the spell, even if the song though muffled could still be heard. 

He had endured more than his share of holiday cheer today as the townsfolk had gone about preparation for tonight’s festivities. Now what he really needed was a drink.

He wasn’t sure what had moved him to agree to attend the church service in the first place; it wasn’t like he was an overtly religious man. Yet he had promised to Josiah to attend and attend he had. However, that did not mean he had to remain to the bitter end. 

Moving into the night he was suddenly aware of another presence and his hand moved instinctively toward his gun. 

“Hey, Ez, doin’s ain’t over yet, are they? I was hoping to get acquainted with that sweet little filly whose family moved into the old Fletcher place.”

“No, Buck,” Ezra replied, the tension leaving as swiftly as it appeared upon recognition of his friend. “The ‘doin’s’ are in full swing.” 

“Then where you headed?”

“My intent was a nightcap and then to retire for the evening. “

“But it’s Christmas Eve… Hey, you ain’t trying to skip out on our bet?”

“Why should I ‘skip out’ on a sure thing? I have never known Mr. Tanner to be wrong on matters of nature. I shall expect prompt payment come morning.” 

Ezra’s fingers touched the brim of his hat as he dismissed the ladies’ man and continued toward the saloon, his eyes darting to the all too clear, star-studded sky. 

*******

Vin silently entered the saloon and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dark interior. His instincts had been correct. Ezra sat at the corner table with a bottle of whiskey and two full shot glasses. 

Vin slid into a vacant chair and reached for a glass. 

“Figured I’d find you…” Vin’s words were cut short by a motion of Ezra’s hand. 

Against the wall, only a few feet away, sat a fat field mouse. 

Vin watched as Ezra tossed a small crumb of bread toward the creature and waited. Soon the little mouse sat up on its hind legs, its nose in the air, its whiskers twitching, before darting out to garner its prize. It tucked the morsel into its cheek then scurried off. 

“Friend of yours? Inez finds out you’re feeding the critter she ain’t gonna be happy.”

“Nor will I if we are not blessed with a white Christmas come morning, which seems less likely with every passing moment.”

“You don’t think Santa’s gonna bring the Potter kids the sled they’ve been wantin’ and then not give them snow so they can use it?”

“Santa? Really? Vin, I stopped believing in that myth a very long time ago.”

“Ah, Ez. Ya gotta have faith.”

“Faith,” Ezra scoffed. “While I admit that I might have, as a child, believed in Saint Nicholas, experience has proven that faith sorely misplaced.” He quickly drained his glass before refilling it.

Vin nodded slowly.

Ezra stared at his drink for a few minutes, his eyes seemingly captivated by the amber liquor, before looking at the other man, his expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, my friend. It was not my intent to disparage your beliefs.” He waved his hand airily. “You are, of course, quite welcome to believe in Santa.” 

“And what about you?”

“Me?” Ezra pursed his lips. “Perhaps it would be best if I simply acknowledged that there are those among us who have been visited by Saint Nicholas, and some who have not.” He fumbled with his glass for a moment before raising it to his lips. It was clear in which camp he placed himself. 

“Can’t change the past for ya,” Vin finally said, his voice rough. “Wish I could, but I can’t.” 

His countenance softening, Ezra just nodded. 

The two men sat in silence for a long moment, watching as the mouse made a return visit, sniffing hopefully underneath their table before darting back into its hole with another crumb. 

“Storin’ up b’fore the snow gets here,” Vin commented.

Ezra snorted, the unexpected sound surprising both of them. “I do believe that, for once, I have placed a wager on the losing side.” He shook his head. 

“You sure ‘bout that?”

Ezra gazed thoughtfully toward the batwing doors, then turned back to face Vin. “The facts speak for themselves. While the night is cold, the sky is clear. Snow is, I’m afraid, an impossibility.”

“Nothin’s impossible at Christmas.” Vin smiled softly. “That’s what my mama used to say, when I’s jist a little feller.”

“Well, I’m sure your mother was…” Ezra’s voice trailed off, and he watched in surprise as Vin got to his feet.

“Come on,” the tracker directed. “I wanna show you somethin’.”

“Where?”

Vin grinned. “Outside.”

Ezra held up his glass. “I am quite content right here.” He motioned toward the doors. “But, please, feel free.” The next thing he knew, he had been yanked out of his chair and across the room. “Mr. Tanner, unhand me!” He started to dig in his feet, then, realizing the attention they were attracting, went along for the ride. “Really, Mr. Tanner, I am appalled at your-”

“Look.”

Blinking in surprise, Ezra tipped his head back and looked up into the heavens. 

At first, there was only one, sparkling in the moonlight. He traced its path as it swirled through the air, coming closer and closer until finally, it landed gracefully on his shoulder. 

Ezra’s mouth fell open. 

And then there were more, snowflake after snowflake, until the sky was full of them.

“If ya close your eyes an’ listen real close…” 

“Santa?” Ezra asked, raising his eyebrows. 

Vin smiled. “Just believe.”

And as the rest of the Seven gathered around them, Ezra did just that.

 

~end~


End file.
